


no, this is totally a good idea

by nessismore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Broken Bones, F/M, Hospitals, Maybe that wasn't the best idea, questionable life choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:19:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessismore/pseuds/nessismore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So there are two things Darcy knows for sure: she makes questionable life choices, and Steve always seems to catch her in the middle of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no, this is totally a good idea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melifair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melifair/gifts), [TheWriterChick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterChick/gifts).



> For Melifair and thewriterchick, who wanted fic based on [this](http://thewriterchick.tumblr.com/post/81560569772/melifair-mylifeinmegabytes-so-one-of-my).
> 
> Thanks so much to katertots and blackglass for whipping this into shape for me. All remaining mistakes are my bad.

“Afternoon, neighbor.”

Darcy looked down, trying to keep her footing on the porch railing of their apartment building as she forced a smile at the guy looking up at her. On the bright side, this was probably the only time she’d ever get to say she looked _down_ at Steve Rogers. On the not so bright side, he was watching her sad attempt to scale a building in a mini-dress and fishnets. The heels were left safely on the ground, thankfully.

She wished this was the weirdest thing he’d caught her doing. But nope. It wasn’t. Not by a long shot, actually. Now, he didn’t even look surprised, just curious.

“Hi, Steve,” she said weakly, tightening her fingers on the gutter so she wouldn’t lose her balance. 

Steve’s lips twitched up at the corners. “Should I even ask?”

“Do you really want to know the answer?”

“Is it illegal?” he asked, quirking a brow. She couldn’t even be offended because yeah, that might have been a legitimate issue a time or two where she was concerned. She wasn’t proud of it.

This time, however, there was no illegal activity involved. She shook her head down at him and quickly regretted the action, because it rocked her precarious position.

He leaned up against a porch post—not one supporting her precarious weight, thankfully—and shrugged. “Then sure.”

“I lost my keys last night,” she said sheepishly. And she didn’t even know how. All she did know was that she needed to add one more to Vizzini’s classic blunders: never try to drink Natasha Romanoff under the table. It was useless, mostly because she was now convinced that Natasha wasn’t human. She turned her attention away from her Night of Bad Decisions and turned it on Steve. “Right now my plan is to climb up to my living room window. I think I left the window open so I’m hoping to get in that way.”

“You live on the third floor,” he pointed out. Like she didn’t know that.

She looked back up towards her apartment window. It sure did look a lot farther than it had a minute ago. “Right now this is the only plan I’ve got. Unless you wanna kick in the door for me…”

He grinned up at her. “I think Mrs. Kowalski would be mad about that.”

Mentally squaring her shoulders, she nodded back towards her window. “Okay, then, Operation: Itsy Bitsy Spider it is.”

He tilted his head in slight confusion. “Operation: Itsy Bitsy Spider?”

“I’m climbing up this waterspout.”

He pushed himself off from the pillar, his eyes widening in alarm. “No, wait Darcy, let me—“

But it was too late. Darcy jumped, trying to push herself up onto the roof of the porch. Just as she thought she’d maybe got enough height and momentum to get to where she was trying to go, the gutter separated from the porch. With an earsplitting creek, it bowed towards the ground, taking Darcy with it.

If this were a romance novel, she would have landed safely in Steve’s arms and they’d have fallen in love and lived happily ever yada yada yada. Unfortunately, in real life Darcy hit the ground like the proverbial ton of bricks, and she was pretty sure she heard something snap. Hoping it was just her dignity, Darcy tried to push herself to her feet and quickly found that she couldn’t. 

Nope. Not her dignity. That was her tibia.

Or was it her fibula?

She wasn’t sure; she never was much good with the whole anatomy thing. All she knew was that it _hurt,_

Steve was by her side a moment later, asking her where it hurt. She resisted the urge to ask him to kiss it better, mostly because her leg was hurting like a motherfucker. He bundled her off to the ER and stayed with her while they got her information; he had to, since she wouldn’t let him go. After they got to the ER, she took hold of him with her good hand. It wasn’t even a ploy to get close to her hot neighbor. What could she say? Alien trying to kill her? No big deal. Breaking her leg? End of the world.

For his part, Steve felt guilty, apparently. He wouldn’t stop apologizing, first for distracting her, then for not catching her, and finally for not getting her off the porch railing to begin with. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but her leg hurt just way too much. She was such a wimp. But whatever, Steve had already seen her at her absolute worst.

Finally, someone came by to take her to get an x-ray. Steve walked with them, since Darcy insisted on it. When they got to the x-ray room, the technician smiled reassuringly at Darcy. At least, she’d started to—and then she did a double take when she saw Steve. Darcy couldn’t blame the woman. After all, Darcy had done the same thing a time or twelve when she first met him.

Steve smiled at the woman, and she actually blushed. Darcy wasn’t sure whether to feel amused or jealous, but in the end she settled for in pain. 

“Before we start,” the technician said, clearing her throat and tearing her gaze away from Steve, “is there any possibility of you being pregnant?” 

Considering the state of her love life—or lack thereof—Darcy laughed. Steve looked at her, concern in his eyes, because maybe she sounded a little hysterical. “No. Nope. Nada.”

The technician’s eyes shot toward Steve, her eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Are you sure?”

Darcy glanced at Steve. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember _that_.”

The technician still wasn’t buying it, apparently. “Really?”

Annoyed and in pain, Darcy leaned forward to whisper, “He’s impotent.”

Beside her, Steve choked. She glanced at him, expecting him to be mad. Instead, he looked like he was fighting back a laugh. “We don’t like to talk about it,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around Darcy’s waist. It made Darcy laugh and wince at the same time. Steve ran his hand soothingly down Darcy’s back, tucking her closer to him in comfort, yet conscious of her broken leg.

“What a waste,” the technician muttered. “You’d have beautiful babies.” The technician perked up. “There’s always in vitro.”

Darcy’s face burned hot. Joke was _so_ over. “So…leg’s not getting any less broken here,” 

The technician blushed. “Right.”

Eventually, x-rays were back, leg was casted, and Steve was driving her back home. “Thanks for this,” Darcy said with a sigh, slumping down in the passenger seat, exhausted.

“It was kind of my fault,” he said simply.

Darcy closed her eyes, her lips curving up. “It wasn’t, but I’m not entirely above using your guilt to my advantage.” Her smile broadened when Steve laughed. “I’m just looking forward to falling into bed and sleeping until this cast comes off.”

“I hate to point this out, but…you’re still locked out of your apartment.”

“Shit.”

“And I really don’t recommend revisiting Operation: Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

Darcy sighed. “Not one of my brighter moments.” Not even spending time with Steve was worth the broken leg. 

“How about Operation: Black Widow?” he suggested in the silence that followed. “Nat could probably just pick your locks and get you in.”

“She left the country for parts unknown yesterday,” Darcy said with a frown. Nat had gone soon after their drinking non-contest. Otherwise Darcy would have called her.

“Okay, _I_ could climb up—“

“Because the only thing that could improve this situation is _two_ of us with broken legs,” Darcy teased.

“Super soldier,” Steve reminded her. There was another silence. It felt heavy with…something. It felt charged, though Darcy couldn’t say how. Steve was once again the one who broke it. “Even if you can get into your apartment, you’ll probably need some help until that cast comes off.”

“Maybe.” God, she’d _probably_ need help. Her apartment was on the third floor and their building’s elevator worked less often than it did. She guessed she could call Jane—

“My apartment’s on the first floor. You could stay with me.” Darcy looked up in surprise. Not at the offer, because that was just Steve. But she was surprised that he sounded _nervous_. Darcy was even more surprised to find that she was, too. Her palms were suddenly sweaty, and she knew the offer didn’t _mean_ anything…but it felt like it did.

“I’d appreciate that.” Steve carried Darcy into his apartment and got her settled, found someone to open Darcy’s apartment, and grabbed some of her stuff for her. Darcy had a marker waiting for him when he got back. “Be the first one to sign my cast,” she demanded.

Steve grinned and pretended to study her leg for the best place to sign. He finally settled on the bottom of the cast, where he took his time signing it.

Later, when he left her alone for a moment, Darcy had to twist awkwardly to see what it was he wrote.  

_Before we think kids, maybe we should start with coffee. -S.R._

 


End file.
